


Music to my heart (that's what you are)

by Analinea



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, Getting Together, Hale Pack, Just Dance, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Night, but mostly just Derek watching Stiles with heart eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 03:04:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10548972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Analinea/pseuds/Analinea
Summary: Stiles buys a Wii, the Pack dances, Derek spends the evening pinning.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've played a lot of Just Dance, I promised two fluffy fic: I added the two. Not sure this fic is good though e.e
> 
> I originally had another fluffy idea but honestly I can't write fluff anymore for a while, I've squeezed all the fluff out of me uuuuuuuugh.........  
> Title from Love you like a love song, that is probably the most chill dance in Just Dance 4, so I usually end with it and then the song is stuck in my head for days..........................  
> (I really wanted to write them dancing on Hot for me because it's my fav, but I'm not someone who can write a character dancing without it being utterly boring..."and then he jumped up and down with his arms raised above his head" like...)
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek shuffles downstairs with a yawn, finding it hard to emerge and ready for his traditional morning cup of coffee. Isaac is supposed to be back in the afternoon, meaning that he has some time before he has to clear the living room of all the embarrassing magazines.

It's not indecent or anything, it's just that crosswords and home decor might put a big dent in his reputation.

Derek glances at the couch and stops. He's not even surprised anymore by the arm dangling off the edge, the mouth silently open with drool staining the pillow that doesn't belong in this apartment, Stiles sleeping soundly.

Derek will never, ever admit to a living soul that the first time it happened he jumped and may even have yelped. He sighs.

He's -weirdly- not annoyed by the intrusion, it's just that he really doesn't understand how he always sleeps through Stiles letting himself in and wandering around his place in the dead of night.

Derek knows it's because of Stiles' insomnia, though they never actually talk about it, and he always comes with a specific idea in mind.

That's how Derek woke up to cabinets full of pre-made cake batter, Polaroids of the Pack displayed all over a wall, or even a six foot tall Christmas tree fully decorated. And it's why Derek looks around curiously.

His eyes fall on a white box under the TV and he approaches to realize it's not a box at all: it's actually a Wii, complete with three remotes and the detector. There's no games near, though, so Derek has no idea what Stiles had in mind when he brought this -or even from where it comes from.

It still makes him smile, because it always warms his heart when Stiles does stuff like this. It always makes something undefined stir in his chest when he thinks that Stiles comes here when he can't sleep. And that, in the end, this is the place where he sleep best.

He just has to gather the courage to ask why exactly. And if Stiles wouldn't rather...maybe...sleep in the same bed as Derek.

 

Derek has the time to make a whole pot of coffee and drink half of it before Stiles' pokes his head through the doorway.

“Am I smelling Hale's dark gold? Did I wake up in heaven?” He's still half asleep from the look of it, heavy lidded eyes and hair a mess. Derek clears his throat before speaking, just in case.

“Not sure about heaven but coffee's warm,” he replies, watches Stiles get his own mug out. Because, yes, Stiles has his personal mug in Derek's apartment.

It's a gift from Isaac; he came back from a yard sale once, no one knowing who he went with, a giant mug in hand. On it was written, “I'm an asshole ~~before my first cup of coffee~~ ”. Stiles had laughed, insulted Isaac, and they had spend the next half an hour smiling passive aggressively at each other.

“What's the deal with the Wii?” Derek asks once Stiles is seated across from him. He eyes the wrinkled clothes and wonders how it is that Stiles can bring his own pillow but not pajamas or a change of clothes.

Derek had to buy a whole pile of new dark colored shirts a week ago because his keep disappearing and only half of them ever come back.

“Found it in a second-hand electronic store, thought it would be cool for Pack nights,” he says, and Derek refrains from pointing out -again- that no one else calls it Pack night. “I have games in my bag.”

Derek hums thoughtfully. He knows everyone will be there that night, not that anyone took the time to let Derek know they were invading - _again_ \- his apartment. He's not bothered particularly, he lived in a big house full of family members. Half the time even he couldn't tell who they were; point is no one was ever officially invited.

It makes him smile fondly more than want to cry to think about it, nowadays.

Stiles phone vibrates on the table, and he checks it quickly without unlocking it. “Isaac says he'll be there around three, Scott's supposed to pick him up at the train station. Allison's master class ends at five,” Derek nods along like he's actually paying attention when he's finding himself captivated by the way Stiles' lips move.

“Boyd works until six, which is a crime on a Sunday, and Erica's supposed to pick me up in...,” he checks his watch -the one Derek got for him last Christmas, “ten minutes to go shopping for Lydia's birthday.”

Derek blinks. Lydia's birthday is soon, he makes a mental note. “Don't know when we'll be back, gotta get ready,” he gets up, tilts his head back to drink the last of his coffee and Derek has to swallow hard when he sees Stiles' throat exposed like that.

It makes him feel awkward and inadequate, like eighteenth century men going crazy at the sight of an ankle.

He shakes his head and doesn't watch Stiles leave to use the bathroom. He definitely not think or listen to Stiles showering.

 

When Stiles and Erica come back, half the Pack is already there. Isaac and Jackson lounge on two opposite ends of the couch, Lydia reads some thin book that looks beyond everybody's comprehension, and Scott is talking with Derek.

The two shoppers have a hundred bags with them at least, drop half of those randomly -Derek sighs- and take the rest to Erica's (unofficial) bedroom with a side glance at Lydia who doesn't so much as raise her head.

“Did Erica give you fashion advice?” Jackson smirks when they're both back in the room, and Derek _knows_ at some point he's gonna take the mean teasing too far. “Because you make the Pack's global attractiveness drop dramatically.”

Lydia eyes her boyfriend but Derek and Scott are the only one to see the warning in her eyes.

“Though I'm not sure Erica's slu–”

“Jackson,” Lydia interrupts him with an icy smile. Erica, who looked two second away from murder, grins, “honey, remember where your mouth's been, because it sure won't be there ever again if you finish this lovely thought of yours.”

There's a heavy silence and a lot of smirks. Stiles winks at Lydia and goes in the kitchen to get something to drink, Erica in tow. Derek hears him mutter something about assholes and goddess on the way.

“Dude,” Scott calls, sometimes forgetting that Stiles won't hear him correctly from a room over, “You brought it!”

Stiles comes back with a glass in hand, “Sorry, what?”

Scott shrugs sheepishly, “You brought it,” he repeats with a smile.

“Brought what?” Erica asks. Scott points to the Wii under the TV, face split in half with his bright smile.

“The fuck is this Stilinski? Is it still 2006?” Isaac scoffs. Derek knows it's just for show, because Isaac is a closeted game nerd and there's an old Atari in his bedroom. By Isaac shifty look towards Derek, he knows that Derek _knows_.

Stiles huffs, “Excuse you, _Lahey_ , it's awesome and can totally take your place in the Pack if you keep insulting our new member!”

“A console is _not_ a Pack member,” Derek grumble, no one listening to him.

“What games did you bring?” Erica sweetly asks, predatory smile in place and ready to beat all their asses at whatever they'll be playing. Derek worries about his furniture.

“Well, the guy that sold it only had Just Dance, so...,” Stiles shrugs, heartbeat suspiciously skipping. No one else seems to notice. Scott laughs like he's in some kind of joke at everyone's expense; Derek worries even more.

 

Everyone's here and pizzas are ordered. There's a good thirty minutes to wait for the food, which prompts Lydia to say, “Whatever happens, I'm not getting even close to this thing,” meaning she'll totally do if there's the promise of a good competition to win.

Stiles gets up from the couch, “Okay, ladies, gentlemen and assholes,” he announces, I've got Just Dance one to four. What are we starting with?” he fans out the DVD cases like a deck of card in his hands.

“Four,” Scott says around the salted peanuts in his mouth, a light in his eyes alerting everyone that there's something they don't know about.

“Deal!” Stiles doesn't let anyone ask, give another answer, or protest, getting the game in the console and three remotes out. “I only got three of those, though!”

“Not like _we're_ gonna play anyway,” Jackson says obnoxiously with a glance at Isaac and Scott. Only Isaac nods.

“Oh, sorry, masculinity so fragile you can't dance?” Stiles mocks. Everyone else snickers at the comment and Jackson glares. Derek smirks, something like warmth and pride lighting up his chest, until Isaac turns to him.

“Like you're going to play,” he mutters. Derek raises his eyebrow, making Isaac huff but turn back to the TV.

“Get ready to be smashed to death, losers,” Erica says, already getting up to play the first round, stretching with her arms up. Boyd coughs, and Derek shares a look of sympathy with him because he remembers breakfast and the way his own throat clogged up at seeing Stiles move around.

While the screen lights up, Stiles turns to give Erica a remote, “Who's player three?”

The sound of crows cawing can be heard in the distance.

Allison raises her hand bravely; Derek knows she's still unsure of her place in the Pack and there's some legitimate tension between her and his Betas. She's trying, though, and she seems determined to make amends and get involved in Pack's activities.

Derek goes in the kitchen, listening with one ear as the game starts up, the horrid songs playing when they try to choose what to start with -he won't admit there's some songs he actually likes in the more recent ones of the selection- and Erica exclamation of “Fuck yes!”.

He comes back with more peanuts that he places in front of Scott, just in time to see the game start: red background and a woman dressed in something sexy that Erica would totally wear.

At first Derek watches the screen curiously to see how the game works, but then he makes the terrible mistake or redirecting her look on Stiles just as the chorus starts.

When he turns to look at Boyd he sees a furious blush -something really uncanny on the guy's face considering how stoic he usually is.

He looks at Scott, who has his trademark look of adoration plastered on his face.

Derek takes the time to watch all three players, see that if Allison has a hard time following the moves she's not as bad as expected for a first time ever playing. She has this grace of people that took dancing or gymnastic classes.

Erica and Stiles give each other a run for their money though, but the hardest part for Derek is that he never, ever expected Stiles to know how to move like...this. For someone as clumsy as he is, he _certainly_ knows how to _dance_.

Derek doesn't know if it would be best to keep looking or focus on something else, because this might become awkward very soon.

A wicked hips move makes Derek try to hide the choking sound he accidentally let out but the snorts coming from the couch let him know that he failed miserably. He glares at them, using it also as a distraction from Stiles moving his body like he was born to dance.

The song ends and Derek judges it safe for him to look back to see who won, but he's wildly mistaken: if Stiles was hot when he moved, now he's just–

He's panting, and not quite sweating yet but his skin already glistens, and his hair is a bit of a mess after he runs his hand through it, and he smiles at the screen after high fiving the girls, and then he whoops and jumps up and down when he wins, and–

Derek needs to take a cold shower.

 

Derek comes back from the kitchen where he drank two full glasses of cold water just in time to hear Lydia ask if Stiles played before.

“Not this one particularly, but we used to play with youtube videos,” Stiles answers. No one asks who's 'we'.

“Batman's got skills,” Erica chuckles, falling next to Boyd.

“Wouldn't be funny if there wasn't a bit of competition, right?” Stiles grins. “Who's up next?” he asks around, “I'm on fire!”

Derek goes back in the kitchen.

 

They end up playing for hours, even after the pizzas arrive. Jackson and Isaac go for two rounds and snarls at each other the whole time, even when they have to do a couple part for Jailhouse Rock.

Derek dodges the bullet by some miracle, or maybe because everyone knows how uncomfortable he is at being the center of attention.

It's late in the night when the Pack leaves, save for Stiles who busies himself with turning the Wii off and finding a safe place for the remotes and the games.

“So,” he says, still with his back turned on Derek, “enjoyed the evening?”

“Yeah,” Derek drawls out, trying to decide how brave he feels at that moment. He goes for _very_ , “Didn't know you could dance like that.

“Hah, yeah,” Stiles turns to him but doesn't look at him, like he's embarrassed, “I actually took dance classes since I was kid,” he chuckles nervously, rubs the back of his neck with one hand. There more to the story, Derek can tell, but there's also something in Stiles' eyes that means he's not ready to tell the story yet.

Just like Derek can't bring himself to mention that he made the desk chair always in a corner of the room, that his father helped and taught him everything about woodworking.

“I like these kinds of night,” Stiles says, sitting down in the armchair, “feels like we're really becoming friends.” He smiles at Derek who can't help but return it.

“Are you staying here tonight?” Derek finds himself asking, can't be bothered to care about the want he lets slip in his words.

“I–” Stiles starts before stopping himself like he just caught on to something and needs to think instead of letting his mouth do the work alone. “Do you...want...me...to?” he asks slowly, unsure of himself, cheeks reddening like Derek just made a scandalous offer. Not that he wouldn't, he just wants to date first, if Stiles wants it too.

“You sleep better here, right? Isn't that why you come?”

“Oh,” Stiles drawls out, shoulders slumping. Derek understands suddenly that now Stiles think he only cares about his health like an Alpha would. And he does care about that, it's just that there's more. “I do, actually,” Stiles murmurs, sounding very unhappy with that fact.

Derek needs to fix this, but he's better known for his silences and his bluntness. He's not good with words. “I, uh,” he tries, “I do too.”

Stiles jerks his head up. “What?”

Derek opens his mouth, about to say that he sleeps better too, but he stops himself and frowns because it's not entirely true. The fact is that Derek doesn't wake up when Stiles comes into his apartment in the middle of the night, which is very different but holds the same meaning.

At least he thinks, supposing Stiles sleeps better because of Derek and not because of the good quality of his couch.

He did buy a super comfortable couch.

Anyway.

“You don't wake me up,” Derek finally says, and Stiles frowns for a second, bites his lower lip -Derek stares at it a second too long- before realization dawns on his face.

“ _Oh_ ,” he answers, and this time it sounds hopeful.

“Maybe...we could, um. Share?” Derek tries not to make this awkward. Or dirty. God, especially not dirty, “Without any...you know,” he gestures with his hand and he's an _Alpha werewolf_ goddammit he shouldn't be this awkward, “Just...sharing. For now.”

Stiles eyebrows raise in amusement but he has a fond expression on his face. The last part of Derek declaration makes him laugh.

“Alright, alright, I get it! We'll keep it PG-13 for a while, let us romance the shit out of each other with flowers and dinner first, right?” He chuckles, but the twinkle in his eyes show his pleasure at the thought of swooning Derek Hale.

Silence falls back between them. Stiles looks down at where he's twisting the hem of his shirt between his fingers. It's funny that they still don't know what to do after basically asking each other out.

“I've been waiting for this for a long time,” Stiles whispers more seriously, “I didn't think you would want me too.”

Derek uncrosses his arms -he didn't realize they were even in this position in the first place- and takes a step towards Stiles. “I've been wanting you for a while,” he says. Stiles smiles when he looks up, then grins.

“Okay, so what about this? Let's make tonight the first date, so that it's not as outrageous to sleep in the same bed,” he jokes.

“The night is over,” Derek argues.

“Says who?” Stiles gets up, closes the distance between them. “You didn't dance tonight,” he whispers, so close to Derek he can see each of his eyelashes. “Will you do me the honor?” he grins playfully, presenting a hand to Derek in the small space between their bodies.

Derek swallows, clears his throat. “Yeah,” he says, and loves the way Stiles laughs when his own voice comes out as a croak.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm begging for comments .o. \o/ .o. \o/ (<\- this is me praying to the gods of comments).  
> If you play Just Dance, what's your fav song?   
> As always (or not, I sometimes forget to put it in the notes) on [tumblr](http://kinsbournescream.tumblr.com).
> 
> Maybe some angst next week *rubs hands together like an evil fly*


End file.
